Then and Now
by iTomboy
Summary: Joseph was born into a wealthy family and expected to follow in his father's footsteps. Gillian and her younger brother were orphans who were taken in by his family. They all quickly become family, but with the murder of loved ones, they go their separate ways. What will happen when, six years later, they find each other in the worst possible predicament? Lady Maverick/Nightstalker
1. Prologue

**Diaclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed.**

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It was 1816.

A slow drizzle sheeted New York City as thunder rolled in the distance. A young boy studied under the cover of the patio roof, listening silently to the patter of the raindrops. His eyes skimmed the pages in front of him, stopping every so often to sound out a word new to him. After scribbling some letters in his book, he sighed, leaned back into his chair, and observed his surroundings. The cobblestone path originating from the porch stairs lead into a lush garden with scattered apple trees and berry bushes. In the distance, he could see the bustling city and lightly hear a mix of animals calling and people shouting. Deciding he needed to take a break, he set down his pen and rose from his chair before stepping on the stone path.

The boy passed the bushes, gazing at one before looking at another. He bent down and, carefully avoiding any thorns, picked a berry, admiring its ruby coloring and firm feel. He popped it into his mouth before shoving his hands back into his pockets and continuing on his stroll down the path.

He enjoyed simple walks like the one he was currently taking, even if he was just a ten year-old. It gave him an opportunity to escape the lifestyle his parents instilled in him. His father owned a leather tannery, making his family's income relatively high in comparison to other townsfolk. His parents were often referred to as noblemen, if New York had any. With wealthy parents, he was given education far higher than anyone else he knew, which often took most of his time. The rest of the hours he had to himself were spent learning the ways of tanning leather, apprenticing under his father. Rarely was he given the opening in his schedule to leave his busy life behind and simply be at peace as he was now.

A rustle pulled the boy from his thoughts. He turned toward the source of the noise before hearing an "ouch!" from the same place. As he grew closer toward the bush the sounds came from, they became more frequent. He peeked his head around the bush to see a young girl picking at the fruit. Her auburn hair was drenched and clung to her back as her hands fumbled under much-too-large sleeves of her shirt. She couldn't have been much younger than the boy.

The instant he saw her, he was immediately aware that this girl was an intruder.

"Hey!" he called. She instantly looked up and saw the boy. Before he could do anything, she jumped upright and bolted away from him.

"Wait! Come back!" he yelled after her as he took chase.

The girl struggled to hold her oversized shirt as a basket for the berries, all the while weaving between obstacles and hoping over the fence that marked the end of the property. She glanced backwards to see her opposition quickly closing the gap between the two. In her distraction, her foot caught a stray tree root and she was sent into a tumble, finally falling face-first into a soggy patch of grass. Most of the berries were crushed under her weight, staining her once white shirt with pink and purple spots, mixing with the grass and mud smears she gained with her fall. The boy caught up with her seconds later.

She noticed the boy's presence and struggled to get on her feet again, desperate not to get caught. Her efforts proved to be for naught when he grabbed her wrist, preventing her from any hopes of escape. Her free hand clawed at his, but he didn't budge.

"Lemme go!" she cried, tugging at his hand. When she realized her strength wasn't going to get her anywhere, she attempted to hit him. After landing a few blows, he caught her other wrist and halted her short-lived assault. Despite knowing she was ultimately cornered, she continued to struggle against his grasp.

"I said lemme go!" she spat once again. The boy failed to see the reasoning behind her absolute refusal of surrender. He only wished to talk to her; ask her why she took what didn't belong to her. Was she afraid of him?

"I don't want to hurt ya," he said in a calmer tone than the girl. Her struggling lessened, but continued.

"Then why won't you let me go?" she replied angrily.

"Why were ya stealing those berries?"

"It's none of ya business! Now lemme go!" she commanded, trying to muster the strength to escape her captor again. He was forced to take a single step forward, but gave nothing else.

"If ya wanted some, I would've given them to ya," he said in a cool demeanor. She paused her struggling for a moment and looked at him. "I wouldn't have told anyone."

Her temper calmed at his words, allowing her to fully assess the boy holding her wrists. He had messy dark brown hair and deep chestnut eyes to match. His clothing stated he was obviously wealthy; he wore a khaki vest, a clean white shirt, black dress pants, and a black scarf tied in a traditional ascot style around his neck. He looked the part of a true gentleman, even though he was around her age. Deeming him trustworthy, she abandoned her efforts to escape and conceded.

"I needed them. For my brother." Feeling her arms go limp in his hands, he released her. He was pleased to see she didn't attempt to escape again.

"Why? Couldn't he just come and ask?"

"He's only five years old. He couldn't have gotten them by himself."

"Well, why did he need them? Don't your parents feed ya?" At the comment, she glanced towards the ground, almost ashamed, the boy noted, before sighing and looking back at the boy.

"We're orphans. I've always had to find us food and shelter ever since I could remember. I never saw my mom or dad."

Her gaze strayed to the ground again. He couldn't help but pity this girl. Here she was, reduced to having to steal in order to gain a sample of a proper meal not only for her, but for her younger brother as well. Being raised in the wealthy family he had, he could not relate with her, but he did sympathize for her. Only then did an idea come to his mind.

"Maybe I can ask my mother and father if you can stay with us. We have guest rooms. I'm sure it's in better condition that your current, erm, place," he offered, trying to be sensitive regarding her current predicament for fear she might lash out again.

She could do nothing but stare at him. A home? Proper meals? For both her and her brother? Never had she known someone to offer her so much out of thin air. This boy she was desperately trying to get away from mere minutes ago was offering her and her brother a new life; a new beginning. Something she had never had before. The entire situation was unreal. In fact, she decided, it couldn't be real.

"You're...you're lying," she declared as she slowly started to back away, her eyes becoming glossy.

"Why would I lie to a girl I just met?" he inquired innocently, equally taking a few steps forward.

"B-because I'm just an orphan and you're just some rich boy. Why would you offer a new everything to some girl and her brother?" she squeaked.

He was hurt at the "just some rich boy" comment. It sounded insulting her context. He never considered himself rich, only that his parents were wealthy. He needed to prove to her that he wasn't some snobby boy who only wanted to make fun of her unfortunate circumstances.

His eyes came across a berry that survived the girl's fall. He bent down, picked it up, and cleaned it off with the cuff of his shirt, dirtying the white fabric. Deeming it clean, he stuck out his hand and offered it to her, who only looked at the fruit with doubt.

"I have no reason to lie. What harm could be done?"

She searched his face, trying to find any indication that what he was offering was false, before looking back to the berry in his hand. He was right: what harm could come from this? She could take a hit to her pride if he were lying, but pride would change nothing in terms of her and her brother. She had nothing to lose considering she had nothing to begin with.

With a shaking hand, she took hold of the berry and cradled it in her hands. She looked up at the boy in front of her, doubt still in her eyes, when she noticed a smile grace his face.

"Follow me. I'm sure ya don't want to wait in this rain," he said, gesturing with his hand for her to follow. She walked behind him closely as he led her back to his home.

Once he reached the front door, he opened it and called, "Mother? Father?"

The girl took the moment to analyze her surroundings. His house had two stories and was much more pleasant inside than outside. The very first item she noticed was what looked like a family crest printed on a shield on the wall directly opposite of the main door with two swords crossed beneath the crest. Ornaments and paintings decorated the walls. A grand staircase was seen down a corridor on her left, trimmed with what looked to be mahogany. On her right, she could see a dining room of sorts with a brilliant chandelier overlooking the table. She glanced back at the boy in front of her. "Just some rich boy" seemed to be an understatement at this point.

Heavy footsteps resounded down the corridor from her left. She assumed the owner of the footsteps was walking down the stairs. Her assumption was confirmed when a man of large stature came into view. He looked fairly similar to the boy she came in with and wore clothes slightly more regal looking. A necklace with a circular pendant dangled from his neck. His dark hair was tied back into a short ponytail and he had the beginnings of a beard on his face.

Before he could see the girl, she ducked behind a wall, disliking the feeling of weakness she suddenly sensed.

As the man grew closer, he bellowed, "Ah, my boy! Finished with your studies already? What a quick learner!"

"Not exactly," the boy responded as the man stopped in front of him. "Where's Mother?"

"She had to finish a stitch or two in her new quilt before coming down. Did you need to ask us a question?" the boy's father asked. To the girl behind the wall, he sounded similar to a gentle giant.

"Not about the studies, Father, but something else." After his words, footsteps lighter than the father's were heard. Before the boy could continue, a young woman joined the two males in their conversation.

"Hello, son. Did you need something?" the woman asked in a soft voice. Her dark hair resembled both the boy's and the father's and her smile was as sincere as a hymn.

The boy inhaled and exhaled to clear his thoughts, taking care to phrase his words precisely.

"When I was working on my studies, I became a little . . . sidetracked," he began. "I ran into a girl who was trying to get some food for her and her younger brother. I found out they're orphans. They have no home. The girl has always had to protect and provide for them both and she's only my age." He took a pause to gather his breath once again. "Can she and her brother stay here? At least for a while? We have plenty of guest rooms."

The parents exchanged a glance before the father asked, "Well, where is this girl? Surely you didn't leave her in the rain."

The boy glanced behind him in the girl's direction, catching her eye as she peeked from behind the wall. Cautiously, she stepped away from it and came up behind the boy, feeling quite timid in the father's and mother's presence. The older women bent down to her level and coaxed her from behind the boy. Her eyes immediately went to her shirt, which was not only much too big for her, but stained brown, green, and purple.

"Oh, dear, what happened to you?" she asked, concerned. The girl only looked down in shame, feeling scrutinized.

Sensing she wasn't going to answer, the boy replied, "She fell into the wet grass. There were some berries on the ground, too." He carefully avoided the fact that she had stolen the berries and attempted to get away with them.

His mother seemed genuinely concerned over the girl's predicament. She examined the young girl's attire, her hands cautiously brushing against the soiled fabric, and turned to her husband. "The very least we can do is get her cleaned. She's doomed to catch that illness that's been going around if she stays as is."

The man gave the girl a once over before giving his wife a nod. "We can clean her up," he confirmed. "Her brother too. I've known quite a few orphans myself, but never this young. I'm sure we can make some sort of arrangement for them regarding a house to stay in."

The woman rose to her feet and straightened out her skirts. "I will go and get Ella to help clean her up," she said before briskly turning around and backtracking up the grand staircase she originally descended from. Her husband's eyes followed her retreating form until she could no longer be seen before returning his gaze to the two children in front of him.

"Well, I suppose we should go find your brother then, shouldn't we?" he announced to the girl, a comforting grin stretching across his face. She described where exactly to find him in the city after she was told she would stay in the house to be pampered by the two women.

As his father turned to grab his coat and tricorn hat, the boy turned to the girl. "By the way, what's your name? Ya got one, don't ya?

"M-my name's Gillian," she muttered, still shaken by his parent's presence. "And my brother's is Fillan."

The innocent smile he wore was filled with gaps and loose teeth. "Mine's Joseph. Things'll work out. Remember that, okay?"

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First thing's first: I cannot guarantee regular updates, much less very frequent updates. I'm hoping to get the bulk of this story done during the remainder of my Spring Break because when I get back to school, all hell's gonna break loose and I'll be lucky to ge to bed before 2 every night. So, if you truly are interested in this story, do tell me. Believe me, readers who tell me what I'm doing right or wrong will probably get me to get these chapters out quicker. I'm not begging for reviews, but they're always appreciated.

Now, on the actual story. This chapter is more of a prologue to the story than anything else. The next few chapters will be a little slow because I have to establish where the characters stand since Microsoft didn't give too much on their backgrounds. So, bare with me here. Anywho, I never really considered the Lady Maverick and the Night Stalker to be together, but I've seen a few pictures that have swayed me slightly. And with the Night Stalker being my favorite MP character, I had to write about him.

Have a wonderful day! :)

-iTomboy


	2. A Routine Trip

**Quick A/N. I read Gillian's name as **_**Jillian**_**, so when Joe says "Gil", it's like saying "Jill". And as much as I hate giving characters names that aren't actually there's, Joe's last name is Morgan.**

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"How about that man by the general store? He looks like he's selling that pile of lace next to him," Gillian remarked, discreetly pointing at said man with a sly smirk on her face. Joseph looked in the direction of the man before rolling his eyes to the woman next to him.

"Gil, I've already told you; Mother sent us with only enough money to buy the vegetables she needs,"Joseph said, slightly annoyed at her constant persisting of buying new lace. She only looked at him and scoffed.

"Who said anything about needing money?"

"If you plan on stealing it, then go and get your brother if you need help. He's more of the _robber_ type than I am," he concluded, readjusting the box of vegetables in his arms. She merely flipped her auburn hair behind her shoulder and placed her hands on her hips.

"I don't need any assistance. I can get that lace for watch." With those words, she turned on her heel and sauntered towards the man.

Joseph huffed and leaned against a tower of boxes behind him, crossing his arms and watching as she swayed her hips a bit more than necessary. He glanced around, not wanting to be noticed as one of Gillian's associates. They were currently in the marketplace next to the harbor in New York City. Merchant ships were occupying most of the docks and stands of various goods littered the pavement. People were running around about their business; some making simple trades while others taking a stroll through town. All-in-all, it was a decently crowded place.

He turned his attention back to his partner, who had just reached the man she was targeting. She had been pestering him for new lace since she began her project of making a new dress. He did not understand her desire for brand new lace considering there were many different patterned sheets around the house. Regardless, when she wanted something, there was no obstacle she wouldn't cross to get what she wanted.

"Good afternoon, sir," Gillian said as she eyed the man carefully. He was middle-aged with a thick beard and the slight smell of alcohol emanating from him. His hat was a bit off centered and a few stains dotted his blue vest.

"Madam," he stated, tipping his hat lazily. Her eyes moved to the pile of lace and she feigned excitement.

"Oh, this lace is simply remarkable! Such detail. My Mother would adore this for her birthday. How much are you offering it?" Gillian lied, picking up the sheet of lace and examining it meticulously. She was sure to plaster a smile on her face to make it seem that she was being truthful.

"Fifty cents," the man stated bluntly. Knowing she had no money to bargain with, she had to convince him to give it to her somehow.

"_Fifty cents? _That sure is a lot for a sheet of this lace. I don't happen to have my bag with me. Perhaps there is . . . something else I can offer you?" she asked with a hint of seduction in her voice. She place the lace on her chest, as if seeing what it would look like, and steadily slipped it lower until her cleavage could be seen above the cloth. The man blatantly stared at her chest without shame, but continued to keep his face straight.

"It's fifty cents, madam." She hid the pout threatening to form on her lips and leaned on the table, accentuating her breasts for the man to see.

"Are you sure there is nothing I can do? You have many sheets of the lace. I'm sure you won't miss just one," she drew out, placing her hands together on the table to push her breasts together. The man furrowed his brows and slowly rose from his wooden chair.

"Are you trying to steal this lace from me?" the man growled, instantly wiping Gillian's fake smile from her face. She took a few steps back to distance herself from the man.

"O-of course not, sir, I simply wanted to-"

"'Cause if you were, I will not hesitate to call the authorities," he threatened, keeping the distance between them close enough so he could grab her should she try to escape. She knew if she only took one more step back, she could make a run for it.

"I assure you, sir, I had no intention of such-" _Just one more step and.._

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I am so sorry, good sir," a Boston-accented voice interrupted her thoughts. Both Gillian and her aggressor turned to the man currently mingling in their affairs. Joseph was wearing his tricorn hat, which he heavily detested, and his jacket was buttoned with a black scarf tying the top off, an outfit combination he would never typically wear. Not knowing where he was going with his getup, Gillian kept silent and stared at him, urging him to continue speaking.

"An' who are you supposed to be?" the man questioned Joseph.

"The name's Paul and this here's my sister Lucy." He got a little closer to the man and covered his mouth from Gillian's ear-shot. "She needs quite a bit of a leash, if you know what I mean." Despite his efforts, she ultimately heard him and pouted at his insult.

The man did not seem affected by Joseph's lie. Noticing this, Joseph quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him protectively.

"I hope she did not cause you any trouble, sir," he continued in his fraud Boston accent. "I am sorry for her actions. I will keep a closer eye on her." With those words, he made his exit, keeping his hand gripped on her arm as he made his way back to his abandoned vegetable box.

Once the two were out of sight and earshot of the man, Gillian remarked, "You can let my arm go now, _brother._"

"I don't know about that one," he replied in his regular New York style of speaking. "If I let you go, you might flaunt yourself at some other slob of a man just to get what you want." He quickly took his tricorn hat off his head and ran a hand through his hair. He released her arm an bent down to grab the wooden box.

"Please, I would have gotten that lace with a few more minutes," she countered.

"As I recall, that man was five seconds away from calling the guards on you."

"I could have outrun him."

Joseph sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you don't enjoy having to steal and run away from your pursuers every time you attempt thievery. Besides, you didn't even get a chance to take the lace."

"I would have run back while he was after me to grab it," she huffed, before sighing herself and looking at the ground. "But it doesn't matter now. He knows what I look like, so he won't even bother listening to me again."

"No need," Joseph stated simply before handing her the box to hold. She shot him a confused glare as he began undoing the buttons he loathed having together. Once the final button was unclasped, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the sheet of lace Gillian had been so determined to take. Her eyes widened as he put it in her free hand and took the box from her.

"What? When . . . when did you take it?" she managed to spit out in her utter amazement, admiring the details with more appreciation that she had earlier with her gloved hands.

"I called your brother more of a robber than me simply because he does it more often. That does not mean he's better at it than me." He gave her a sidelong glance paired with a proud smirk.

"Wait a minute," she began, a thought crossing her mind, "I remember you saying you wouldn't help me." She gave an interested smirk. "What happened to change your mind?"

"Do you honestly believe I would watch as you get yourself into a situation like you had just now?" he asked. "I refuse to sit back and allow you to cause trouble that could come back to hurt you." He looked forward again, knowing her smirk was widening.

"Oh, Mister Morgan couldn't stand to watch me get hurt," she taunted, pulling her hands to her chest and leaning into his shoulder as if she were truly a flattered damsel.

"Not when you're my responsibility, no." She chuckled and pushed herself off of him, refocusing on their path. "But when it comes to a race across town, Miss McCarthy, I'm sure fences don't hurt too much," he kidded.

"You know I would beat you home if we had a race right now."

"I don't think you realized it, but I happen to be carrying a box of vegetables that limit my movement. Of course you would win."

"I'm sorry, would you rather me carry them? I'm sure I would still win," she teased.

He gave her a blank stare. "I will not race against someone with a disadvantage. I would think you wouldn't, either."

"I spent years on the streets. I took any advantage over my oppressor that I could take. It's habit, now." His gaze softened a bit. He knew she didn't like talking about the years she spent without a home. Without parents. Without the promise of a meal. Her life before her and her brother were housed by Joseph's parents was often a sensitive topic, which is why it was a bit unusual to hear Gillian openly talking about it. Even though it had been seven years since she had been homeless, having a childhood like hers is something never easily forgotten.

She noticed how lost in thought he was and sighed, knowing what he was so deeply pondering.

"It's been seven years, Joey. _Seven years_ since I was left on the street. Believe me, I have gotten use to having that portion of my life being a part of who I am. I'm sixteen years old and I have learned to accept my past. I have also learned to be thankful for everything I have now."

He turned to her, knowing what she was connecting her last sentence to, and stopped in the middle of the vacant road they had been walking on. She stopped as well and gave him her attention.

"You know that if it wasn't for you, Fillan or myself might not even be alive right now. I can't remember if I've said it before, but thank you," she admitted, despite how out-of-habit it sounded coming from her. "I would have never been at such a high point in life."

Joseph couldn't help but chuckle a bit before pushing her slightly with his shoulder and continuing to walk. "I wouldn't consider having to steal whatever you want a _high point_ in life."

She laughed, much different from her typical snickering. "You know what I mean, Joey."

A grin made its way onto his face and he said nothing.

In the quiet, Joseph glanced at his partner. She was wearing one of the outfits she had made by hand, detesting anything that limited her range of movement. Her emerald dress was low-cut and sported white details in the fabric. The skirt was wide open in the front, which was unnoticeable when viewed from the back, and had white trimming outlining the edges. She wore white leggings and leather knee-high boots while her sleeves were tied off at her elbows and curtained down to her mid-forearm. Her hair was in a low ponytail positioned down her back and reached as low as her elbows. She would typically wear dresses such as this: elegant, to demonstrate her social class, but adjusted so she could run and climb as easily as if she were in pants and a shirt. She absolutely loathed anything that prevented her from being able to escape a pursuer.

Minutes had passed in silence when an African American woman came into view ahead of them. As soon as she was close enough to see distinguishable features on her face, Joseph recognized her.

"Ella? Ella is that you?" he called at her. At the sound of her name, Ella glanced up from her path and smiled, noticing the person calling her as the son of her employer.

Ella had been working with Joseph's family for nearly a decade. She was considered by society a slave to the Morgans, but she was treated quite oppositely. She was given one of the guest rooms to live in, she earned a small salary, and was given the respect any other hired hand was given. Despite her typically preparing the meals herself, she was always welcome at the dinner table and was accepted as a member of the family regardless of her skin color.

"Mister Morgan! Miss McCarthy!" she replied, quickening her pace to meet him sooner. "I thought you had already reached the countryside by now."

"Not quite. What are you doing in town? We already picked up the vegetables Mother requested," he said, stopping to dip his head in respect, which was followed by a light curtsy from Ella.

"Your father requested Mister McCarthy be picked up from his violin tutor early today. I believe I overheard him planning supper early as well."

_That's odd_, Joseph thought. "We could pick Fillan up. It would be no problem for us."

"Oh, but Mister Morgan, I would hate for my journey into town be for naught," she said.

"It doesn't have to be," Gillian interrupted. "You could return with the vegetables. Besides, I need to talk to my brother as quickly as possible."

Joseph glanced at her, his instinct telling him her last sentence was not entirely true.

"O-oh, well if you must speak with him, then I suppose I can take the vegetables back to the house. I'm sorry for the trouble," Ella apologized unnecessarily.

"No need to apologize. You are doing me a favor, Ella."

After a few moments and a glance from Gillian, Joseph passed the box of vegetables to Ella, who stumbled slightly before regaining her grip on the wooden box.

"Are you sure, Ella? It really is no trouble to carry the box myself," he asked, helping her adjust the box in her arms.

"No, no," she assured, "it is my pleasure to be of assistance to you and the McCarthys. I will see you two and Mister McCarthy at supper. Have a safe trip!" She began walking away from them, a slight stumble in her step at first, but she quickly regained her composure and ambled out of sight.

The two watched the spot where she had disappeared for a few moments before Joseph muttered, "You didn't have to lie to her. You weren't even carrying the box."

"No, I wasn't carrying the box, but neither are you anymore. Now we can have a fair race," she said, an eager gleam in her eye.

He rolled his eyes at her. "All that trouble for a race to Fillan's tutor?"

"You aren't afraid of losing to me, are you, Joey?" she baited.

"I'm not going to play this game with you, Gil."

"One race?"

He kept silent for a moment and pondered the thought. _One race couldn't hurt._

"Fine. We'll race to Fillan's tutor. Winner gets bragging rights."

"So be it."

And in less than seconds, the two were sprinting down the street, headed for the tutor's house.

From their point on the street, the tutor's house was diagonally north with the only options of getting there being following the alleyways and avoiding fences and tables or taking to the roofs and make a straight line to the house.

The first building serving as an obstacle came into view. Joseph decided to utilize the alleyways and swung his legs over the first fence in his path. Gillian, not wanting to take the same road as him, began to scale the building one window at a time. Once she reached the edge of the roof, she pulled herself over and continued running towards the opposite edge. She leaped from one roof to another with ease and jumped to a sign on the side of a building. From there, she jumped from pole to pole before rolling to the ground to continue her endeavor.

Joseph gracefully hopped over the fences that obstructed his path. He weaved between tables and desks and grabbed a nearby flagpole to swing around a corner to keep his momentum. The people in his path were narrowly avoided while strings of "sorry!" and "my bad!" were left in his wake. The tutor's house finally came into view, and from what Joseph could see, Gillian was not there.

All that was left for the two was a quick sprint to the front door. Joseph was running through an alleyway and could only see the house at the end. Gillian was heading down the main street with the tutor's house coming up on her right. The outer fence could be seen from her perspective, but nothing more. _Just a hundred feet more_, she thought to herself, not seeing her opponent anywhere near the property.

She finally came across the beginning of the fencing belonging to the tutor. She took a quick glance to the right down the alleyway and was shocked to see Joseph much closer than she anticipated, which gave her a quick jolt of adrenaline to beat him.

He saw her on the outside of the fence when he reached the tutor's property. The only way he could beat her to the door was to cross the front yard. With this in mind, he briskly hopped the fence keeping Gillian out and made a mad sprint to the door.

She saw him cutting the lawn and turned the corner to the front door's pathway. _Just a little bit closer!_

He was only feet away from the door, but so was she. _Almost there!_

She leaped forward, desperate to touch the door before him.

He lunged towards the door.

At the moment her hand touched the doorknob, his hand clasped on top of hers in an attempt to touch it first.

"I beat you!" she cried in triumph, panting.

"We touched it at the same time!" he tried to proclaim, also breathing heavily.

"Not with my hand on the bottom. I won."

"By less than half a second."

"It matters not. I beat you." Despite her ragged breaths, she shot him a cocky smile.

He placed his hands on his knees. "We'll have a rematch."

"Perhaps," she muttered, removing her hand from the knob. "But that will be for another day."

She straightened out her dress and hair before knocking lightly on the door that had been her target mere moments ago. Joseph cleaned himself up as best he could, straightened his posture, and regulated his breathing. The faint violin notes in the background stopped suddenly and steps were heard coming closer to the door. The doorknob jiggled slightly before opening, revealing a stout woman with a glossy violin in her free hand.

"Oh! Miss McCarthy! I was not expecting to see anyone for Fillan for another half hour. Is there an issue?" the woman inquired before a blonde haired boy peeked around her arm.

"Sister!" the boy cried, rushing from behind the woman to hug Gillian's waist.

"Hey there, Fill," she laughed, squeezing his shoulders.

"We were told to pick him up early," Joseph filled in. "You will still be paid in full at the end of the month, as usual."

The woman nodded and backed into the house, returning with a violin case and a few papers in her hands. "This is what he needs to practice during the week," she instructed, handing Gillian the papers once her brother released her. She passed the leather case to Fillan, who smiled and held it carefully, and leaned forward to his level. "Don't forget to tune that violin of yours." She grinned and kissed the top of his head.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Johnson!" Fillan called happily as he, his sister, and Joseph began walking towards the street.

Once the house was out of sight, Joseph bent down and ruffled Fillan's shaggy hair. "Hey, Fillan, how was the lesson today?" The boy beamed at him and raised free hand over his head. Joseph kneeled down, grabbed his hand, and swung him over his shoulders while Fillan explained, "It was fun! Mrs. Johnson taught me a little bit of Mozart's concerto."

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Gillian asked as Joseph took the violin case from the boy and held onto one of his legs for support.

"There's . . . more than one?" he asked innocently, his smiling faltering.

His carrier laughed and replied, "He has quite a few, Fill. Definitely more than one."

"Well, I'm still better than you, Joseph!" Fillan announced proudly, tapping his head lightly.

"Yeah, you are," Gillian confirmed. "Better than him and me."

Both Fillan and Joseph glanced at her, a smile on their faces. The older boy looked at the sky and noticed how low the sun was.

"Come on, Fill, Mother and Father said to be back before dark. We don't want to get in trouble like last time, do we?" Joseph felt the boy's body sway from his vigorous head shaking and readjusted his grip on him. He chuckled at Fillan's actions and continued walking down the street leading to the countryside.

* * *

**So, at this point in time, it would be 1823. Joe would be 17 years old, Gillian 16, and Fillan 12.**

**I imagine after taking Gillian and Fillan in, Joe's parents would treat the two as if they were their own, so they had no problems with offering them luxuries such as tutors and whatnot. Of course, that would come with other things such as upholding proper manners, being taught life skills (such as sewing, in Gillian's case), and other adult things they'll have to know. This will be explored in more detail in the upcoming chapters.**

**Anywho, thank you for reading, and give someone a compliment, just for the heck of it. (:**

**-iTomboy**


End file.
